Mischievous Marooned Mateys
by CandyassGoth
Summary: A crossover involving Sherlock meeting Captain Jack Sparrow. A sort of sequel to my Mischievous Intellectuals in the TARDIS. While travelling about in the TARDIS, Sherlock, Loki and the Eleventh Doctor crash into unknown territory. Shortly after Sherlock comes across the weirdest person he had ever met. Weird references, dry humour and more Loki than I intended to add.


A/N HI. So this was supposed to be a crack fic. But it's lame compared to my other crack fics. This is a sort of sequel to my one-shot _Mischievous Intellectuals in the TARIDS_, a three-way crossover involving Loki, Sherlock and the Eleventh Doctor. That also wasn't as funny as my usual crack fics, but I blame Sherlock for that. Hard to make funny around him. And Loki is bitchy. And the Doctor…well, they're just not comedians lol.

So, this is a self-prompt on the 'pirate-Sherlock' stuff. He wanted to be a pirate, so I thought I'd introduce him to one. And how can you NOT choose Jack Sparrow? But I just couldn't make funny happen. And usually I am very good at that. SHERLOCK I BLAME YOU.

So…enjoy this bad attempt at a crack fic. Maybe this is a sign I should stick to PWP lol.

No warnings really. Except bad humour. Though it might benefit you to first read my one-shot _Mischievous Intellectuals in the TARIDS to_ understand why the hell the Doctor is carrying Loki and Sherlock around lol.

_I do not own any of these characters _

**Mischievous Marooned Mateys**

Smacking around the inner walls of the TARDIS, three men tumbled helplessly as the timing-travelling box malfunctioned worst than ever before. Sparks streaked like weak fireworks, biting at their faces while the seeping smoke choked them from all corners and vents. The only one managing to hold his grip onto stray poles and cords was Loki, but he made the worst damage to the ship whenever he lost his grip, succumbing to the haywire gravity and denting the metal he smacked into.

Grunts and cries of pained confusion and curse words simmered beneath a loud _WHIRRR_ of the ship trying to continue its journey, and the echoing _CLANG_ of random tools flying about as well. More than once each man was smacked in the face with a metal object or a book, male egos flaring into the likeness of water-sprayed cats.

Not soon enough the ship jolted more violently than was considered normal for their crashing and the doors swung open frighteningly, clapping erratically. They seemed to be tumbling on their side through the air, and before anything could be done the wind sucked them out, spitting the men into the forest of trees before crashing heavily into the ground below, settling ironically on its up right position with a loud metallic groan.

The next few moments went by eerily peacefully, no more screeching and slamming, or groaning and crying. The forest remained undisturbed despite the alien technology that so rudely crashed into it. The leaves swayed gently to the wind and the birds chirped curiously, the sun's rays not strong enough to reach them near the ground.

Wincing loudly, the Doctor lifted himself from his face down position on the grassy ground and fell over onto his back with a high-pitched squeak. He coughed, and blinked repeatedly, seeing a swirl of green and blue. Five metres above his head hung Sherlock. He was draped over a thick branch, his long arms and legs dangling. The Doctor only noticed his whereabouts when his left shoe slipped off his foot, conking the Time Lord on the noggin.

With a loud moan Sherlock came around, his stomach beginning to flare with pain. He hung helplessly, blinking his own eyes with extra effort to clear his blurry vision. Eventually he saw the Doctor below him, waving his shoe with a sheepish grin. Instead of returning anything similar, the detective gritted his teeth and angrily wiped the hair from his eyes as best he could while keeping his balance. He struggled to breathe, and when he spoke did so in pants and grunts. He felt slightly nauseas, grateful he hadn't thrown up while in the ship.

"I recall you said there'd be no bodily harm!"

The Doctor nodded vaguely, shrugging lightly as he gestured up at Sherlock, pointing the tip of the shoe around. "Actually, I said no bloodily harm. See? No blood on you!"

"Oh, do shut up." Sherlock spat back with some effort, trying to sit up on the branch. But his limbs were still shaking and he couldn't hold on, and when he leaned too far over, and slipped right over the branch. He hit the ground directly next to the Doctor with a loud pained grunt, and sucked in a deep breath as he jerked away from the Doctor, slapping a hand to his lower back. "I think I broke my coccyx." he said as if being strangled.

"Your _what_? Human bodies and their issues." The Doctor mumbled, shaking his own body out for any major injuries.

Rubbing his coccyx, Sherlock looked around the heavy lay out of green and brown, noting that they crash landed into some sort of jungle. "Where did we crash?"

Rolling his eyes, the Doctor pulled to his knees, dusting off the back of his trousers and coat. "I don't know how many more times I must ask you _not_ to aggravate Loki, his energies interfere with the TARDIS's signals. This crash definitely isn't my fault."

Sherlock made a rude dismissive noise with the side of his mouth. "If he would just accept defeat like a man we wouldn't have these problems."

"Where is he anyway? Oh gosh, I hope he didn't get sucked out this time stream. Finding him would not be easy."

Sherlock pushed to his feet with a loud groan, shaking out his right leg and pushing his hair back once more. "Maybe he flew over the trees and broke his precious face on a rock. A Zeus rock, for his god-face."

"Sherlock." said the Doctor in a scolding manner. Easy to forgive, he sighed and grabbed hold of Sherlock's arm, pulling himself to his feet. The detective hissed as he pushed him away, stepping away two steps for space as the Doctor quickly pulled to his feet. He adjusted his bow tie and shook his head, looking at Sherlock with a 'why-can't-you-just' expression. "At least _try_ to understand him. A piece of him. Or act like you do. Lie, like everyone does."

"I don't play pretend when not on a case." Sherlock said, stubbornly. He sniffed and coughed, the wind still knocked out of him. The right side of his face ached as much as most of his body, but he didn't show it as his companion headed over to the TARDIS, seemingly unharmed.

"_Fiiine_. Okay, I'd better fix our baby or who knows how long we'll be stuck here." The Doctor reached the big blue box and wiped a hand over it, sending mental and emotional apologies through the contact.

"Where exactly _is_ here?" Sherlock asked, wondering if they were even on earth. The first few times of visiting other worlds had stumped him more than he could admit, but he was getting used to it, and decided the area looked very much like that of Earth.

The alien made a funny noise and lifted his hands in a shrug. "Well, I don't know. While you and Loki were insulting each other's backsides I lost the controls between Egypt and Melasaran Galaxy. Try to find Loki, I'll see to the TARDIS."

Sherlock pulled a face, wanting to stomp his foot just a bit. Though he respected this man, he hated being told what to do, especially when Loki was involved. "You're sending me on purpose. You know very well that we don't get along."

"Only because you won't try! Now run along." The Doctor said with finality, making a walking motion with his fingers.

Sherlock glared at him. "...Never say that to me again."

The Doctor sighed and pressed his palms together, "Please?"

Rolling his eyes with a huff, Sherlock turned away with an extra heated glare and started off in the direction they landed, no doubt Loki would have landed there somewhere. He breathed deeply through his nose to send oxygen around his body, shaking out his limbs again, highly reluctant to trip and fall and show weakness, despite having survived being thrown around a rather wide ship.

Scanning the ground and branches with his sharp eyes Sherlock sighed, irritable, blaming Loki for their crashed. He stopped carefully around the rooty terrain, hoping to find Loki face down in a pile of dung. "Horny Prince of Norse-Nonsense! Make some whimpers so I can drag you back to the ship."

But there was no Loki.

As amusing as it would be to know Loki was sucked into a different time stream Sherlock didn't wish to go on a whole mission just to find him. The Doctor would make sure he did his part, seeing as he never gave the god a moment of peace. So he trudged around loyally, scanning the area for the diva, going in circles and trailing possible directions. He kept an eye out for any danger, seeing as the Doctor was too distracted by his pretty box to remind him to be careful.

But still no Loki.

Disappointed, Sherlock sighed and was about to turn back to the Doctor with an honest answer that he couldn't find the other, but movement caught his eyes. He stilled and squinted through the trees, catching sight of a person quietly hurrying away. Curiosity got the better of him and immediately he followed, quickly realising the person was not Loki, and that there was a break in the trees that led to a sandy beach.

He stopped in the shadows and peeked from behind a tree, spotting the person hurrying awkwardly onto the sand. He frowned, studying the man's choice of clothing, and realised with a bubble of excitement that the man dressed as a typical pirate. He had always loved pirates! He looked around and realised they were on some sort of island; the sand golden and the water the type of crystal blue normal polluted oceans didn't have. The sun sparkled against it as the waves lapped playfully at the sand, everything screamed 'holiday destination'.

The man was dressed like a pirate, Sherlock would know. So they were indeed on Earth, back quite a few years if Sherlock had it right. He stared, intrigued, studying the man and his odd attire. The man had dropped to his knees with a small box on his hands, and waved his fingers as he hunched over it, his back to Sherlock.

Pirates were the thugs of the sea, really, but Sherlock felt confident that he could handle a physical confrontation with anyone. The excitement of meeting a real pirate ate at him faster than piranhas would, and he found himself sneaking forward, glancing at the box that probably held treasures that were lost in his own time-line.

The sand was an excellent sound absorber as he scooted closer, but a horrible surface for his shoes. He struggled over with a comical expression, sneaking towards the oblivious man who had on a rather intriguing hat that Sherlock wanted to grab and claim for himself. For all is childhood they said, 'You can't be a pirate!', well maybe he could finally prove them wrong. With a powerful spark of excitement Sherlock idly wondered if he could rewrite history by becoming a pirate, a famous pirate with an alias so that he could go down in history like Blackbeard and Davy Jones. He knew by now how it all worked, and surely the Doctor would humour him.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't realise his presence fell over and his reflection showed on one of the pirate's big rings, a dark blue gem on his ring finger. The pirate's eyes widened as the odd face warped across the gem on his finger, and he jumped up, pulling a gun seemingly from thin air and aiming it as Sherlock jumped back, startled.

"Halt!" the man barked, but squinted at Sherlock and his odd attire for the century.

More excited and interested than afraid, Sherlock stared in awe at the man, ogling at his attire in return. He was in the presence of a real pirate-_a real pirate_. It's a pirate. It's a pirate. It's a pirate. He didn't even think about deducing what he could from the man, he didn't want to work right now. But boy did he want that hat.

Frowning oddly at him, the man aiming the gun pulled a funny face. "...My God man, did you fall out the Queen's knickers?"

Slapped out of his thoughts by the words 'Queen's knickers', Sherlock squinted down at him. "_Excuse me_?"

The pirate scoffed in the back of his throat. "Sounds like it too."

Staring with confused curiosity Sherlock tried not to grab the man's clothes while cementing them to his memory so he could get his own when he went home. Then he could buy a water bed, demand John be his ship and ride him through the seven corners of the bed. "Who might you be?" he asked instead.

"Me?" the man said, with a flare of attitude. None to subtly he stepped in front of the box to hide it from view, and spread his arms out, swaying slightly like a drunk. "I am Captain Jack Sparrow."

Sherlock was almost sure that was supposed to be impressive, judging by the look on the pirate's face, but disappointingly it wasn't. "...Doesn't ring a bell."

"Good Lord mate, how far up those knickers are you? Any learned man-well, and woman, knows who I am." Jack said, tapping the gun to his chest more than was safe. Sherlock frowned at him for more than one reason and gave a silent shrug.

But the man didn't hover on the subject, and brushed it off. "Oh. You must be from that mute part of town."

Who on earth was this man, Sherlock thought? He looked like a drunken cosplayer. A darn excellent cosplayer, how did he make up such a look? Sherlock gazed upon him, but it wasn't easy to figure out anything about the man. Pirate yes, most likely stolen jewels on his fingers, tanned skin from sun-exposure, and fancy but heavy-duty boots. He had on one too many layers of clothing for a simple pirate, much like Loki, Sherlock thought. He had black eyeliner around his shrewd-looking eyes and enough pockets to hide anything and never find it again.

Feeling exposed by the scrutiny of the stranger, Jack made a funny noise and twinkled his fingers past Sherlock. "Goodbye now." He quickly turned around and waited for the man to leave. Probably. Hopefully. Maybe. Yeah...

The detective stayed put. He looked around as if something was going to come by and magically make him leave, but when nothing odd popped out he pursed his lips and stepped around the idiot. Unsurprisingly the man didn't look happy to see he was still there, so he pointed obnoxiously to the box. "What's that?"

"What's what?" the man grunted, seeming to have forgotten his gun that he held loosely.

"The box." Sherlock said, gesturing down.

"It's a box." The man replied after a pause with a smile as if he solved a riddle.

Sherlock grit his teeth. "Yes, but what is _in_ it?"

Once more there was a pause, and Sherlock could actually see the cranky gears turning in the man's head. But he waited, curious to hear what the man would say. This wasn't at all how he thought a pirate would be.

"...Sand." Jack said vaguely, nodding in confirmation.

Sherlock's lips pulled back and he nodded slightly, pointing again. "Sand? Why would you be carrying _sand_ in a treasure chest?" It was supposed to have treasure dammit!

"Why not?" the pirate countered.

"What, is it special sand?" the detective said sarcastically. Between Loki and the Doctor everything soon had some magical explanation instead of logical. It was pissing him off.

Brown eyes widened and the man bounced, kicking sand at the chest. "Yes! Magical-_cursed_ sand! So go away. Now." Again he wriggled his fingers away, expecting Sherlock to up and leave.

But it only made him more determined to stay. "When did I grow a sign on my head that says it's okay to dismiss me like I am a chid?" Sherlock spat, glancing at the man's hat, itching to grab it for spite and kick sand on it. Then knock him over and run away with it. Loki would almost be proud.

"Maybe about the same time you adopted the eromenos look, mate." the captain said, pulling a face at him at said clearly 'ew'.

"What-?"

Jack made a loud dismissive noise, one people make when trying to get rid of visitors who take millenniums to step back out the bloody door, and quickly picked up the box, holding it possessively to his chest and smiling falsely at Sherlock. "Well, it was nice meeting you. And your hair."

Just as the pirate turned to leave, no doubt run, Sherlock grabbed him and though he aimed for the box, he managed to get the gun. It was half way there at least. He made a noise of triumph and pointed it, blocking the way. "Not so fast."

Curiously, the pirate didn't flinch, or cower, or laugh. He gave a meagre glare at the gun, and a 'you-don't-know-who-you're-talking-to' face at Sherlock. He finally had on a serious expression, shaking his head lightly. "Don't be stupid, mate."

"Never have." Sherlock said immediately.

"Obviously you don't know who I am, son."

"Either that or you weren't important enough to remember- ...are those real pony tails?" How had he not seen those? The HELL were those?

But quickly the man's serious aura disappeared and he shook his chin, trying to look down his face. "Hm? ...They're also magic."

What else did Sherlock expect? Disappointed, and confident he would make a better pirate, Sherlock aimed the gun handsomely and waved in his fingers with the other hand. "Right. The box, what's in the box?"

"What's it to you? It's mine." Jack held the box closer, stubbornly.

"I just want to know what's inside it. I'm not going to steal it, you're the pirate here."

"Aye, but that means I'm predictable. But you popped out from nowhere with such...clothes."

Ignoring the hinted insult at what he thought were fine clothes, Sherlock made a placid face, almost hopeful. "Just a peek."

Mashing his lips together, and glancing at the gun, the pirate gave in with a grunt and a heavy drop of his shoulders. He then looked around suspiciously. "...Were you followed?"

"What? Why?" Sherlock glanced around himself, knowing surely there were worse pirates out there even if _this_ one was...not all normal.

"I don't want the whole world to see it. I only have so many bullets."

"I wasn't followed."

"Oh, good." Jack said, smiling oddly. "You can't trust anyone, savvy, men are rats. And dogs. And snakes." He set the box down again and dropped to his knees. He gestured Sherlock down with him, rubbing his palms together. "Prepare yourself." he said in a mystical tone. Sherlock half expected a genie to appear.

"For what?" he asked the pirate. He wouldn't freak out over treasure. Maybe punch the man in the eye and take the box- or maybe that's what the man planned to do in return... Sherlock kept himself loose, ready to defend himself.

"Prepare yourself." the man said, as if it were obvious.

"For _what_?" Sherlock asked, irritable.

"For _this_." Jack said, looking at Sherlock as if he were daft.

"How can I prepare myself for something I do not know?"

"How can you have such sharp cheekbones? You could poke eyes out with those out here."

Sherlock tightened his grip on the gun against his leg, careful of the trigger, and breathed deeply. He looked around again. "Where is out here, exactly?"

"Mate, are you-" Jack circled his finger on the side of his head, widening his eyes, "-or just pretending to be?"

"Neither. I am not from around here."

"...Still, that makes it worse."

"Just open it."

It took Jack a whole minute of tension and hesitation before hooking his fingers beneath the rim of the lid and lifting-all for naught. "It's locked." Jack said, sitting back on his heels as if that was the end of it. Sherlock looked from him to the box, twice, thrice, and gave him a fiery glare.

"What?" Jack asked in the tone of a child, gesturing to the box.

"_A key obviously_." Sherlock practically hissed.

Jack sat with his mouth open, thinking for his next lie, Sherlock was sure. "...I didn't take one of those. Last time I saw it open without one."

"Then break it open." Sherlock suggested rudely. Though the box itself was pretty, his patience was wearing thin and he needed to see some bloody treasure, some real pirate nonsense.

Glaring with a start, Jack dusted the lid of the box carefully. "Oi, this is my box, I'm not breaking my box. I worked hard for this."

"Yes, sand must be hard to come by." 

"Shh, you're disrupting the box."

Sherlock looked around the box for the key hole. "Why don't you just shoot it open, it's just a box."

"Why don't I just shoot you, you're just a-...funny man." Jack ended pathetically, pulling his lips at Sherlock like he was disgusting.

"I am holding the gun." Sherlock announced, and aimed it once more.

The pirate smirked, and tapped the tip with his finger. "Don't count your krakens before they attack, mate."

Sherlock pushed his finger away irritably. "Clearly you're drunk, or your eye liner is smudging because you fail to see who is in charge."

Squinting at the gun pointing right in his face, Jack looked up at Sherlock, hesitating, then shrugged. "...It's still my box."

"What is it, a time travelling box? People and their boxes..."

"Oh look!" Suddenly Jack jumped and leaned to the side, eyes wide and mesmerised. Immediately Sherlock's thoughts took him exotic places and he turned in hopes of seeing a pirate ship, or a crew, or something-!

But there was nothing but the ocean. He felt a brush of sand against his lowered hand and turned back to find Jack speeding off with the box as fast as he could on the sand, his multiple layers of unnecessary clothes and accessories billowing behind him. And his stupid chin pony tails swinging.

"Hey! Bloody pirate!" Sherlock barked, scrambling to his feet as he took off as well, struggling across the beach.

The pirate looked back yelled at him. "Stop following me! This is my box! I'll send you to Davy Jones-! Bloody tourists-!"

Surely there was something of value in the chest for the pirate to be so possessive, it pushed Sherlock further, not to mention he was curious to know if Davy Jones was real.

With more practice at running on sand Jack kept a good distant and then headed into the trees. But instantly he skidded to a halt and squinted at the distant figure wandering aimlessly, and with a noise turned back, running towards Sherlock.

The detective slowed down as the pirate sped back towards him, wondering if he decided to show him at last, but the male rushed past him, kicking up sand in his wake. Sherlock stared, dumbfounded.

"Wha...?"

"Rather the devil you know, mate!" Jack called over his shoulder as he ran.

"Rather...?" Once more gnawed by curiosity Sherlock edged over into the trees, looking for an imposing figure and ready to have a brawl with the rather ancient piece in his hand. But instead, to his utter disappointment, it was only Loki.

Grimacing and grumbling to himself Sherlock hid himself before hurrying after the captain, making sure he was far away enough before yelling.

"Hey! Sparrow!"

"That is captain Sparrow to you. And everybody." Jack said, stumbling slightly.

Determined, Sherlock put his long legs to use and caught up, "To your wife too?"

Stopping abruptly, Jack breathed heavily, looking at Sherlock with a dull annoyance. He then gestured a hand to the sea. "Of course. Ask her yourself."

Panting lightly, Sherlock glanced, seeing no one. He didn't expect there to be, but asked anyway. "...Where?"

"Right there." Jack said, confidently.

"...The water?"

"Ocean, man. Ain't she a shining beauty?"

"Your wife is the ocean?" Sherlock asked, and wondered why he was so surprised. Travelling with the Doctor had shown him things beyond even his imagination, like potato-men that worried him, and Cybermen that he wanted to take apart to see how they worked… So the pirate married the sea...it was a better love story than a modern day novel he heard of.

"Not all of us want one with a mouth, Mr...?"

"...Sherlock."

Jack pulled a face at him, obviously wondering if it was his real name, but dropped it and frowned. "Why are you still following me?"

"Is there treasure in there?" Sherlock asked brazenly, tired of the games.

"That would be my business, wouldn't it?"

"I am holding the gun." The pistol rose.

"I'm still not showing you." Jack insisted, and turned to leave once more. Clenching his jaw angrily Sherlock grabbed his shoulder and swirled him back around, aiming the gun and pulled the trigger. A light click was heard, and all was silent.

The men stared at one another, and again Sherlock pulled the trigger, aiming it at the key hole. But no bullet came out.

Smirking, the pirate shrugged. "Wet gun powder, mate."

So that's why the gun didn't phase the pirate, Sherlock thought, incredibly irritable. He almost felt stupid, and so as pay back threw the gun at Jack's stupid head. It knocked the man's hat off, nearly conking him on the head, and he cried out in response. Sherlock took the moment of distraction and grabbed the box, and thus began a struggle.

Through their grunts they managed to continue arguing like housewives. "Didn't your mother tell you not to challenge a pirate?!"

"Didn't your mother tell you not to wear make up like a tramp!"

"What?!"

"I just want to know what is in the box!"

"Let go!"

"_Box_!" Through the pulling and pushing of hands the poor box popped from their grasp and fell to their feet. They both dived to it, but Sherlock tackled Jack into the sand, kicking the box away from them both so he could return to it when he won.

Holding Jack down with a large hand on his face Sherlock leaned over him on all fours, his other hand aiming for his neck. "You fight like a woman."

"Oh good-" Jack said, muffled, and thrust up a knee, catching Sherlock right between the legs. The detective made a soft involuntary squeal and Jack shoved him off onto the sand. The pirate sat up and wiped his hair from his face, blinking repeatedly. "Should'a done that before."

Both men were up on their feet in no time, and Sherlock tackled him again, hoping to confuse the man with an odd tactic. They hit the sand again, and started struggling. "If I beat you, does that make me captain of your crew?"

"Ha! What crew?" Jack scoffed, elbowing the other's gut.

"I want to be a pirate, give me your clothes!" Sherlock yelled, kneeing Jack in the chest.

"What? Get your own!" Jack exclaimed with a grunt as he fell over, scrambling onto his front to crawl away.

Laughing, almost maniacally, Sherlock shrugged and headed after him. "I have to start somewhere!"

Appearing into sight, Loki tilted his head as he watched the men tussle. No one sneaked up on him, he had heard their rackety a mile away. Sherlock's voice was now easy to recognise and so he followed it, amused at the conversation the detective was having. He watched them running back off from the trees, but only when they started fighting did he decide to creep closer, intrigued by the box of attention.

With a surprising start he sensed his magic in the vicinity, and picked up the box curiously. His hiding in plain sight ended sooner than he hoped and the pirate saw him first. With a hefty boot to the back he sent Sherlock face down into the sand, and hobbled over with his hands out.

"Hey! That's mine."

The trickster raised a mischievous brow. "Oh?" Behind the pirate Sherlock pushed to his feet, coughing and shambling over to them, full of sand, and opening his mouth to speak. Loki quickly cut him off. "Sherlock, really. Not a few days away from your solider pet and you're raping the locals. Scraggy ones too."

"It wasn't like that. Open that box, I want to see what is inside."

Jack looked between them and raised a finger. "Er, no, you don't have permission to do that."

Amused, Loki scoffed. "Permission from a sea-mercenary? Who do you think you are?"

Both time-travellers stared at Jack, who stared at Loki as if he was as daft as Sherlock, and blinked his eyes in a manner of rolling them. "…'M Cap'n Jack Sparrow."

"He says it like we must be impressed." Sherlock said, eyeing the box.

"If only you knew who _I_ am." Loki smirked, drumming his fingers over the box. The obsessive glint in the mortal's eyes was funny, he loved to aggravate obsession.

"The Devil?" Jack guessed.

"Not quite but close enough."

Sherlock scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, goaty. "

The pair shared a common glare, and Jack pointed a finger at each. "Hold on, you two know each other?"

"Yes." Sherlock said, with a dull sigh.

"Have you been following me? All for that?" Jack asked, pointing to the box dismissive, but his aura said otherwise.

"No we crashed here-"

"You can't explain time travel to such a backwards mortal-"

"I wasn't about to!"

"Can I have that back?" Jack piped up.

"Why so eager?" Loki asked, caressing the top of the wood.

"Just open it." the detective hissed.

Now that he was outmatched, the pirate gave in slightly, but remained stubborn. "At least let _me_ do the honours?"

Snapping a glare at the pirate, Sherlock grinned. "Ah huh, so you _do_ have the key?"

Jack gave him a funny look. "Of course I have the key. Dolt." Sherlock's grin dropped and he almost punched the man had it not been for Loki cutting in.

"No need, I unlocked it." he said coolly, and handed it to Jack who was as surprised as Sherlock.

Suspicious, Jack looked down above his own handsome cheek bones and very carefully hooked his fingers, and lifted ever so gently. The lid snapped open, and he looked up. "...This is new."

Loki licked his lips, trying not to grin, and waved his hand. "Now show us what you are trying so hard to hide."

With little choice that would end in another tussle, Jack looked at both men in warning, and lifted the lid open.

Sherlock's anticipation of gold and jewels fell flat on its face as a gush of lacy lingerie burst from the box, much more than should have been possible. Loki burst out into gleeful cackling and Jack stood utterly shocked, and covered in women's seductive underwear. "…Wasn't expecting that." he said, not nearly as embarrassed as Sherlock or Loki would have been.

"Women's underwear? You stole women's underwear?" Sherlock said as the laughter grew in his chest.

"Looks like it came straight out of a brothel." Loki added.

Now in slight panic, Jack dropped the box to sand as if it were diseased and pointed at Loki, panties and bras hanging from head to toe. "No! You-! You rigged it!"

Loki held his hands up, his face colourful with amusement. "Me? But you both watched me the whole time."

"You opened it! There's something off with you-! Devil-…._thing_."

Realising that most of the underwear was much too modern for this time, Sherlock looked at Loki. "Was that you?"

The God of Mischief winked, grinning handsomely.

Suddenly Jack dropped to the sand and began digging through the underwear like a vicious animals. He threw the pieces of clothe aside, hitting Sherlock more than was necessary. "Where is it?"

With his laughter settling, Loki chuckled, a hand on his stomach as he looked down at the silly mortal. "Where is what?"

Slamming the box shut with a hot glare, Jack jumped back up and pulled out a gun from seemingly nowhere. "Fine. I know you have it. Let's trade for it. Want souls? Here's one already." He aimed the pistol at Sherlock, and something told the detective it wasn't as useless as the last.

Loki smirked, feeling smug, but shook his head as if talking to a child. "As tempting as that is not, no thank you."

"…My own?"

"No."

"What was in there?" Sherlock asked Loki.

The god turned to him with a pondering look. "Something I'd actually like to see on you."

Jack leaned over to the detective. "…Ladies knickers."

Out of no where Loki pulled out a small object, holding it between two fingers. Jack did a double take when he saw it and bit his lip, obviously resisting grabbing and making a run for it.

Sherlock tilted his head. "…A wooden…mask?"

"I fashioned this in my youth to humiliate my brother, but it wasn't powerful enough to work on him, so I threw it down here. The mortals are most amusing to watch with this."

"What is it?"

"Just a silly old mask." Loki dismissed, moving it out of Jack's reach.

"I don't know anything you just said, but that's mine." Jack insisted, jumping to grab it again, but fell straight through him.

Laughing, Loki stood behind Sherlock, shocking both men, his doppelganger twitching like a bad signal. "You don't need it, you are already beyond your limits."

The pirate hurried after him, kicking up sand. He almost looked pleading, if not for the insane glint in his eyes. "Doesn't matter. I can sell it for a couple doubloons. Give it back, Devil-witch."

The green-eyed man bared his teeth, holding the mask away the man and _his mask_. "I am Loki, the god that created this. If it belongs to anyone it belongs to _me_."

"Finders keepers." Jack said, swiping a hand to grab it.

"Exactly." Loki said, and with a wave of his hand and a cloud of black smoke the mask disappeared from his hand.

Jack made an undignified noise, almost stomping his foot. "Hey! I sunk a whole ship to get that!" He shouted, and aimed his shaking gun.

Pouting, the trickster waved an arm, and with a small whirl of golden dust he took a female form, one he had taken a liking to. Shapely, long black hair and moon pale skin, there wasn't much difference, but the different expressions of the other males' faces were priceless. "You'd shoot a woman?" he asked in a sweet voice, acting oblivious.

Sherlock had yet to see that party trick of Loki's, and stared unashamed, the logic train in his mind palace derailing and falling off the edge of its world-ironically. "Wow."

Jack stared, silently, wide-eyed, and then- "A woman…_that talks_."

The pirate clicked his gun, not as shocked as Loki would have liked. "Lady trouble?" he asked, teasingly.

"Not as bad as yours apparently." Jack said, making Loki sneer. "Is the mask where I think it is?"

Loki's cheeks turned pink and he immediately turned back to normal, pushing his hair back into its sleek look. "No."

Jack blinked at the male form, then leaned over to glance at the godly booty. "Ugh." he said.

Spluttering and humiliated, Loki stepped back, kicking up sand. "Still no! I'm leaving. This century always annoyed me."

The god turned and started to trudge away, leaving Sherlock laughing at them both and Jack tailing after him. "Ay! My mask! I'll trade you for it! Seas turtles? A jar of dirt? A piece of Eight? The Baccarat? Hey!"

Sherlock's laughter stopped in time with Loki's steps, and the pirate made a knowing sound. He hurried up around Loki, waving his arms as he swayed. "Ah, I can get you the Baccarat. I know who keeps it."

Sherlock watched closely, stepped up besides them. The word sounded horribly familiar, yet made no sense. "The _what_?"

Jack waved a hand in his face, staring straight at Loki as if it were the only thing keeping him rooted in spot. "Be quiet, knicker-boy. I am conversing with the mask god."

Not amused in the least, Loki spoke through gritted teeth "…Baccarat?"

"Aye, the blue box that can blind a man just by looking at it!"

Sherlock pointed a finger at Jack, but looked at Loki. "Is he talking about your alien cube?"

Still glaring a hole through Jack, Loki managed to speak. "…You mean the T_esseract_?"

"Yes that." Jack said dismissively.

As Loki seethed, Sherlock looked between them. "I though- oh…we're back in time, before your family drama."

"The Tesseract hasn't left Asgard until…what exact year is this?" Loki asked, looking around.

"I can take you to it. I heard some promising legends." Jack said, leaning over into Loki's personal space. The god pushed him away with a hiss, and wiped the infected hand on Sherlock afterwards. "That is all they are! _Legends_! The Tesseract isn't on Midgard."

"Where?"

"_Here_! Your earth!"

Jack shrugged, "It might be."

"It isn't-"

"No, no don't you _dare_ bicker over that, it's ridiculous." Sherlock barked before an argument could break out. "I was hoping for jewels, that box was heavy."

"That's hand-carved mahogany from Fiji mate, and you wanted to shoot it." Jack said as if Sherlock suggested he become a law-abiding citizen.

"I almost wish that meant something. What kind of pirate are you?" Sherlock asked irritably.

"At least I am a pirate." Jack shot back.

Loki looked up sharply, and turned a snicker to Sherlock. "Ooh. No doubt that stung your precious intellect."

"Shut up." Sherlock retorted sharply, but Loki just smiled his coy smile.

"Heh. Well, then I'll be off. I'll tell the Time Lord you're busy playing pirate."

"At least my goal is obtainable, Mr. Rule the Whole World with a magic stick. As if."

"Ooh." Jack leaned back as the tension grew.

Close to turning Sherlock into a woman and dropping him on one of his beloved pirate ships, Loki turned away instead. Thor would have been proud. "Get lost." he said as he stormed away.

The remaining two men watched after him, Jack swaying slightly before turning to Sherlock, pulling off any remaining underwear. "You really want to join a scurvy crew?"

"You said you didn't have one, didn't you?" Sherlock said, looking down at the box in longing.

"Course I do. Just not all in one place at the moment."

Sherlock looked up sharply. "And a ship?"

"You want a ship? I can get you a ship! …If you get the mask." Jack said, looking at Sherlock with the most secret calculating look Sherlock had ever seen in a man's eyes. This man was not as vague as he seemed.

"What is so special about it? He took it." He didn't want to go fight Loki for a stupid mask, why was it to important to this man? He just wanted to go on a damn pirate ship as a pirate!

Leaning over into his personal space, Jack tapped his chest, then followed after as Sherlock stepped away, uncomfortable. "Get it back for me and I'll make you first mate of my ship."

"Co-captain." Sherlock said stubbornly.

Jack's expression lost any openness, and his voice became tight. "No, there will be only one captain. Captain Jack Sparrow." he said seriously.

Sherlock dropped it, but his mind threw another thing at him. "…You said you know Davy Jones?"

"Aye. Want to meet him? Great! Bring the mask, we'll go over and have a tea party!" And with that the captain took off, marching down the beach. Sherlock didn't bother to follow, he was still trying to find a way around having to get the mask.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Somewhere." The man yelled over his shoulder as he found his hat again, having lost it in the tussle. "Get the mask and come to town. Just ask for Captain Jack."

"What, then we sail away into the sunset?"

"Or a sunrise if it tickles your fancy."

Sherlock was about to tell him to get lost, and then follow him in an attempt to steal his ship, when Loki came bustling out from the trees again, jumping from the edge straight past Sherlock and ran after Jack with an ease on the sand that no mortal man could ever accomplice.

"PIRATE!"

The wind _swooshed_ past Sherlock, disrupting his hair as the god all but flew. Jack jumped, already a good way ahead, and took off as well. "Bye!"

"What?" Sherlock asked stupidly as he watched them. Instead of continuing the chase, the trickster skidded to a stop, kicking up a huge wave of sand, and watched the mortal flee. Sherlock approached him, and noticed he was holding the mask in his hand.

"What happened?"

Staring with bloodlust, Loki lifted the wood and stuck it in Sherlock's face. "It's a fake."

Sherlock jerked back, but looked at the wood, unable to tell. "What? The mask? How is it a fake?"

"It's magical but it isn't mine, someone tried to forge it. I could sense my magic, the magic I put in the original, so I assumed it was in the box."

"Then where is it?" Sherlock asked, glancing back to the box that lay forgotten.

"On him." Loki said surely, angrily.

As it all clicked, Sherlock laughed. "…Slippery bastard was trying to sell crappy fakes."

Loki pursed his lips like a child, and began to march forward. "I want my mask,"

Groaning at the thought of another confrontation with the odd pirate, Sherlock grabbed his arm, tugging him back. Loki only stopped to humour him, or Sherlock would have been dragged along. "Oh for heaven's sake, leave it, make another, a better one."

"That thief is-!"

"No, no, Sherlock is right. Leave it."

Both males turned around and saw the Doctor heading towards them, dusting his hands.

Loki fumed. "Why should I?"

"You will disrupt events caused by your mask that are meant to happen. It'll affect the future. You should know that by now."

"…Have I ever given a shit?"

The Doctor pouted, and pressed a playful finger to Loki's nose, and predictably it was smacked away. "You promised to behave."

"But-!"

"Look we'll go back to normal time and find it there, how's that?"

That did make sense too. Loki growled, but gave in. "...Fine."

"There you go!" The Doctor said happily, started leading them away by the shoulders.

Sherlock pulled back, gesturing vaguely to the sea. "Wait, can't we go on a ship?"

"A pirate ship?" Loki drawled.

The Doctor seemed to debate it, but shook his head softly, regrettably. "Sherlock no matter what pops up on my psychic paper it won't give us free pass abroad a pirate ship, those kind of men don't keep deals."

The detective sighed loudly. "Then Loki can _magic_ us a disguise. I want to be a damn pirate!"

"Okay! Okay! Calm down. Can't we go to Disneyland?"

"…"

Loki chuckled, smirking between the two. "I have a better idea. Let's go back further and meet the Vikings, they'll put your pirates to shame."

"Why must you always burst my bubble?" Sherlock said, trying to think of a new insult. And he guessed it would have something to do with boobs. 

"You do the exact same to everyone else." Loki replied coolly.

"Is that man being chased?" The Doctor asked, looking past them. Loki and Sherlock looked back towards the beach and indeed there was a man being chased. A man with a very cool pirate hat, pony tails on his chin, and something in his hand, as a large crowd chased after him.

"What is he waving?" The Doctor squinted.

With a start Loki realised it was his original mask, and bolted from his spot. "That's my mask! Bloody Pirates!" he shouted, taking off again at inhuman speed, leaving Sherlock and the Doctor to run after him and the angry crowd...

_The End_

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Yeah I just had to sprout boobs on Loki. Who wouldn't be manipulated by them? Apparently Jack Sparrow, well and Sherlock. Tough luck Loki. Should've shown his ass instead. Though Jack...he's hard to manipulate using bodily parts lol. Maybe ship or jewel bits.

This was supposed to be only Sherlock and Jack. But...Loki and the Doctor stuck their fat heads in. Especially Loki. And his mask. Meh, this could've been better, but yes.

Also, if Loki took his mask back then the awesomeness of Jim Carrey as the Mask wouldn't have happened. Secretly the Doctor is highly amused by him. Shhh don't question it.

XD Comments would be loved, and if you see any annoying errors do point them out, I'm so sleepy~


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